


Greif

by CryBabyTM



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Rumple Buttercup: A Story of Bananas Belonging and Being Yourself - Matthew Gray Gubler
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24271447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CryBabyTM/pseuds/CryBabyTM
Summary: Based on the Episode “Nelson’s Sparrow”(10x10), or the episode where Gideon dies, a bit of insight into what was happening with Spence.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Spencer Reid, Spencer Reid/David Rossi, Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid/Reader
Kudos: 23





	Greif

My chest tightens and anxiety overcomes me as I watch Spencer move through our house, a shell of the man he was mere moments ago, his phone still raised to his ear as whatever news that he is being given begins to digest. He eventually stops pacing and finishes the call and turns to face me. His eyes shine with unshed tears, his lips pulled into a straight line that begins to quiver and it’s like all the oxygen has been removed from the room.

“What happened Spence?” I ask softly, reaching my hand out to offer him support, resting it on his forearm.

“It’s Gideon,” He breathes, and his face changes, “There was a body found in his cabin,” His voice catches in his throat and I fill in the gaps. The man that Spencer had spent so much of his life looking up, the man that was practically his father, was probably dead. 

I reach my arms up to pull him into and embrace, allowing him to rest his body weight into mine. I feel his tears begin to trickle onto my shoulder and his body rack with sobs. I knew that this was something he would not be able to bounce back from quickly and that this would be something Spence was going to need support with.

“Shh,” I hush, trying to console him, “It’s all going to be okay, Spence, we don’t even know that it’s him yet.”

“They want us to go in, the BAU is consulting on this,” he says, pulling himself away from me, wiping his face and preparing himself for the rough few days ahead. He heads to our room and brings out each of our coats and slips mine over my arms and onto my shoulders.

“Spence, can we please just take a minute before we leave,” I say, watching as he builds his walls up around himself and places his own over his shoulders, “I need you to look at me for a second and breathe, you have to hold yourself together if we are consulting babe, we need your mind on this one.”

His eyes lift to mine, the grief is already swirling in them. I watch as he takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and lets it out. “I’m ready.”

Spencer drives us to the cabin, knowing that we hadn’t been there since he left the BAU so many years ago but his amazing mind allowed him to know the directions without the gps. He takes a minute to compose himself after he parks, and i rub my hand across his shoulders. I wasn’t fortunate to meet the man, as I had joined the bureau after he retired, but I knew of him, not only by the stories the team had but also for his amazing work. Jason Gideon was a genius.

“Ready to go?” I ask softly, giving him the opportunity to take as much time as he needed. He nods, pressing his hands on the steering wheel and we step out and walk up and into the cabin.

The first people that we see are Rossi and Kate, soft smiles are exchanged from them, guided at Spence. JJ and I lock eyes, silently she asks me how he’s holding up, I shake my head in response. My eyes float down to the ground, as if this is the first time I have noticed the body draped with a sheet, my stomach turns knowing that hours ago the man was alive and now he’s dead. Before raking my eyes up to Hotch, his face gives everything away and I watch as Spencer’s lip quivers again as he tries to keep it together. I feel people enter the room behind us, but I cast my eyes to our unit chief.

“Are you sure?” I hear Penelope’s voice ask from the other side of Spence, and it’s almost like everyone holds their breath waiting for the answer, despite being pretty sure of what it is going to be.

Hotch's resolve falters and for the first time, I can see how truly sad he is, “It’s Gideon.”

I close my eyes, bracing myself for the news, tears gathering for the first time since the news had been broken to the team. Spencer lets out a choked sob from beside me and quickly turns and walks out the door, just after looking at the figure on the ground. We could all tell that this news was going to be hard for him to hear, but I also knew that the last time the man left how he barely held himself together. The group collectively follow the boy with their eyes, Derek takes a step to follow him, and I shake my head, mumbling that I’ve got it. I bury my hands into my coat pockets and follow after Spencer out the door.

He has barely made it fifteen feet when his knees go out from underneath him and he crashes to the ground. Dirt and mud stain the knees of his pants. His shoulders rack with sobs and hands plant firmly on the ground. I take quicker steps and am at his side a few seconds later. I take a seat on the ground in front of him and run my hands up and down his arms, letting him know that i'm just here.

“Oh baby,” I whisper, tears gathering in my eyes. The worst part about loving someone is when they are hurting and there's nothing you can do to make it better. Loving Spencer was as natural as breathing. It felt like it was an instant and I loved him, and that I fell incredibly hard for him. Loving him felt like every little thing I have ever done right has led me to him and being with him. And the person that is such a light in my life so broken and destroyed hurts my soul on a whole other level, if I could take all his pain away and put it on myself I would in a heartbeat. Spencer’s hands grip the dirt, trying to ground himself. His breath becomes laboured and sporadically. “Breathe with me Spence.”

“Can’t-” He mutters, lifting his red eyes to meet with mine. I can practically feel his panic wrap around him and pull him away.

“Yes, yes you can,” I say pulling one of his hands out of the dirt and up to rest on my chest, “Feel my breath, babe. Match mine. I know you can do it.”

Spencer shakes his head as his eyes raise to meet with mine, he tries desperately to convey to me how scared he is. And eventually, along with a few deep breaths he’s calming down slowly.

“Thank you,” He says softly wiping his fingers under his eyes, then learning up to press his lips to my forehead, “He was like my dad, Y/n. I wanted to be him, he was incredible. You know the letter he left here for me? It was essentially the same as the one my father left for me when I was a child.”

My heart breaks in my chest and my stomach turns, “I wish I could make it better baby, I really do.”

He dusts his hands off on his pants and stands up, legs shaky beneath him. We make our way back into the cabin just in time for Hotch to be assigning everyone to different tasks. Derek, Spencer and I are all sent to the M.E, as we needed to know the cause and time of death as soon as possible.

“Cause of death was hypovolemic shock, due to ballistic trauma,” the small asian woman says, and I hear Spencer suck in a breath from beside me, “Three points of entry, left shoulder, right abdominal wall, and right temporal.”

“Did he suffer?” Morgan asks, and my eyes snap up to his face, why would he ask that.

“Not for long, no,” The woman replies and I let out the breath I had subconsciously been holding thankful that the man hadn’t suffered. Morgan knew that Spencer needed to hear that the man didn’t suffer, “His brain stopped working before he was able to process his last breath.”

Morgan and I both look towards Spence, a vacant look on his face. He’s not listening to what’s being said, his eyes are locked on the body on the table, specifically focused on the deep crimson splotches on the sheet.

“After the final shot he was gone within a fraction of a second,” She finishes, noticing the tension rising in the room.

“Would you excuse us, please?” Morgan asks, she nods and glances across each of our faces, giving me a forced smile and exiting the room. I cross my arms over my chest, suddenly freezing within the room.

“Did you hear any of that?” He asks, stepping into the view of the younger man. I take a step back from the two, watching them interact. Morgan and Spence have a relationship that I could never begin to explain, if Spencer and I were soulmates so were the boys. “He didn’t suffer.”

A tear falls from Spencer’s eye, but before it’s there too long he has reached a shaky hand and tissue up to his face to remove it. Morgan reaches out to clasp his shoulder, trying to offer him some comfort. I take a step forward unable to let him cry without knowing that I’m with him, my hand rests on his back softly. Morgan’s eyes meet mine and he gives me a soft smile.

“Listen to me, listen to me,” Derek begins, “Sometimes you put up these walls and you block us out, and you can’t do that, not right now.” A sniffle falls from Spencers lips.

“We need you, Spence,” I say softly. I move my hand down to link ours together. He gives my hand a quick squeeze letting me know silently that he has heard us.

“Gideon needs you,” Morgan finishes, “I’m going to step right out there and when you’re ready, let’s go get this son of a bitch.”

Spencer nods his head and when I go to follow Morgan out the door, his hand tightens around mine, “Please.” He says voice hoarse, thick with tears.

“Anything you need,” I say, firmly planting myself at his side. He silently cries beside me, and collects himself for what seems to be the hundredth time in the few short hours it had been since that phone call.

The rest of the day moves in a blur, Spencer completes the case shell of the man he normally is. He kept muttering about “one more game”, and once the unsub, Donnie Mallick is dead, he begins to allow himself to feel the grief.

It’s later, driving back from the crime scene that he speaks about him next, Rossi and I patiently listen and allow the man to talk and grieve.

“I just always thought I would see him again, “ He begins, voice shaking slightly, “I’d just really like to play one more game of chess with him,” He swallows, “I know I’m not being very rational, and I know that I haven’t seen him in a really long time but I think about him all the time and I knew he was always out there and now it just feels empty.”

“Yeah, but time will pass and slowly you'll forget how much it hurts,” Rossi says, he’s not trying to take away the pain, simply rationalise it for the boy, “And maybe you’ll find something else to fill that empty space.”

“I don’t want to find something else,” Spencer says defensively, as if Rossi is trying to take away the memory of the man.

“It won’t replace him,” I say, causing Spencer to glance back at where I’m sitting in the back seat, “Your memories and time with him made you who you are today and he would be so beyond proud of the man you’ve become Spence. He is a part of who you are, on a fundamental level and nothing will change that.” He nods softly.

Later that night when we are curled up on the couch Spencer’s head rested on my lap and my fingers tangled in his hair. I look down to the man and observe his face. For the first time in days he looks completely relaxed, his brows aren’t furrowed and he isn’t frowning.

“I don’t want to cry about it anymore,” He mumbles, probably noticing that I’m looking at him.

“I know,” I whisper back.

Spencer sits up and faces me, “When will it stop hurting?” He asks me, a childlike expression on his face, asking a question no one could possibly know the answer too.

“It’s going to be hard for a while, and that’s okay, but it will get easier and eventually when he is mentioned it won’t feel like your heart is being ripped from your chest. You’ll smile and laugh you think of him and tell his stories to your kids and keep his memory alive.”

“Our kids,” He says simply, linking his hand with mine, pulling me into his lap.

“Hm?” I mutter slightly confused on what he meant.

“I’ll tell his stories to our children,” He says pressing his lips to my forehead. My only response is a nod of my head.

“Yes baby, our children,” I say back, and just like that I know that he’s going to be okay.


End file.
